


The Greatest Happiness

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3314855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erestor begins a new life in Imladris and finds love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aprilmoon08](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilmoon08/gifts).



> Beta: Phyncke  
> Disclaimer: These characters and places are not mine. I do not make any profit from their use.   
> Written for Aprilmoon for the 2015 My Slashy Valentine  
> Timeline: Mid-1800’s, Second Age.

The horses’ hooves clacked over the stone bridge and onto the patterned courtyard, the clatter only slightly muted by the cascading waterfalls that seemed to flow all around them. Erestor’s eyes moved slowly up the impressive stone staircase to the buildings above, towering against the mountainside. 

“Did I not tell you it was impressive?” The captain of Erestor’s escort dismounted and motioned to his men to do the same. 

Within moments, the arriving party was engulfed by Imladris Elves. Stable hands led horses away to be cared for. Elves with tell-tale ink stains on their fingers reverently carried crates of carefully packed books and scrolls to the newly completed scriptorium where they would be painstakingly copied. The Mithlond guards who had accompanied Erestor were escorted to their new quarters in the barracks, and finally, a tall, dark-haired Elf stood in front of Erestor. 

“Master Erestor? I am Lindir, seneschal to Lord Elrond. If you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms, and when you have refreshed yourself, I will take you to Lord Elrond.”

Erestor reluctantly drew his eyes from the imposing and graceful lines of the Last Homely House. He felt exactly like a fish that had been drawn up from the Gulf of Lune, transported in a dry box, and finally dumped in a farm field, far away from its watery home. He did not know this land or these Elves, and this was, in fact, the very first time he had been more than twenty miles from where he’d been born. “Thank you, Lindir,” he said, meeting the other Elf’s eyes for a moment before uncomfortably lowering them to the ground. “I thank you for your welcome. Imladris is truly beautiful, but please, I am just Erestor.” 

Lindir nodded. “As it pleases you. Will you follow me?” 

Erestor gathered his courage, took a deep breath, swallowed, and forced himself to hold his head high. He could do this. He had wanted to travel, to visit the other realms now that Middle-earth was at peace again, and he had asked for the opportunity. He would not shame himself, his parents, or his teachers. He hoped his traveling bags would find their way to his room if he was supposed to meet Elrond. It wouldn’t do at all to meet the Lord of Imladris in the travel stained clothes he was wearing. He followed Lindir down corridors, through doorways, down steps and up a flight of stairs, certain he’d never be able to remember which way they had walked. He couldn’t help it if he kept getting distracted by the beautifully carved doorways or the exquisite statues that stood in the odd alcove. They finally arrived at the room that Erestor presumed was to be his new home, and all he could do was to stand at the open door and stare in wonder.

“Is it not to your liking, Erestor?” Lindir asked, moving into the room and motioning about himself, as if displaying the charms of the chamber. 

“How could I not like it?” Erestor asked. “But how is it I have been given such grand quarters? I do not require more than a small bedchamber. Are all scribes given such rooms here? Surely I will share these rooms with others?” The room in front of him was a large sitting room that held comfortable chairs arranged before a fire, a couch, and a table that could be used for working or eating, along with small side tables and stands with candles ready for lighting. Through an open inner door, Erestor could see a sleeping chamber with a great bed, and both rooms opened onto a railed balcony that overlooked the valley. 

“These rooms are yours alone, Erestor. No, not all scribes have rooms such as these, but you are not just a scribe, are you?” Lindir asked. 

“Pardon? I am but a scribe and a keeper of books and scrolls. I was sent here to help establish Lord Elrond’s library.”

Lindir tilted his head and looked at Imladris’ newest resident. “I do not know where the fault of the miscommunication lies, whether in Mithlond or Imladris, but the king wrote my lord that he was sending him a personal assistant, and that you would also see to having our scribes copy the books and scrolls he was sending to establish a formal library here. You were not told this by the king?”

Erestor was so taken aback by Lindir’s response that he was unsure how to answer. He was barely one hundred and fifty years old - not even as old as Imladris herself – and had no experience outside of the libraries and scriptoriums of Mithlond, although he knew he was an able scribe and librarian. He had been well-trained and his teachers had always told him he was talented, but why on earth would the king choose someone as green as him for this task? “I did not receive my orders from the king,” he finally said. “I was informed I was being sent here by the head scribe and he did not tell me all of this. I do not understand. Personal assistant? What will my duties be?”

Lindir’s brow furrowed. “Lord Elrond is in need of a personal secretary and assistant to help him with business matters. Imladris continues to grow and we have begun trading with various other peoples. You would be helping him draft letters and trade agreements, and meet with traders and other visitors. You would also be maintaining records of our livestock, food harvests and the like, and any other duties Lord Elrond turns over to you. Are these tasks you are able to perform?” 

The duties didn’t sound too onerous or difficult, and Erestor was fairly confident he could make a good showing of himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to fail and be sent back to Mithlond in disgrace. He nodded. “I can perform those tasks.”

Lindir looked relieved. “Then come and bathe and change out of your travel clothes. Are you hungry? I will order a light meal that you can eat before I take you to Lord Elrond since dinner is some hours away.”

Lindir led Erestor into the bathing chamber off of the bedroom and showed him how to use the tap to fill the large sunken tub with warm water that was ingeniously kept heated through the use of underground fire chambers. When servants came with his travel bags and tried to put his clothes and belongings away, Erestor insisted they just leave the bags, embarrassed that anyone would wait on him. 

“I will leave you to your bath,” Lindir finally said, giving Erestor a smile. “Enjoy your meal when you are ready. I will return in an hour or so to escort you to Lord Elrond.”

When Lindir was gone, Erestor heaved a sigh and sank into the tub, ducking his head under the warm water to wash the dust of the road away. What had he gotten himself into?

 

&&&

Lindir carried a cup of tea into his Lord’s office and placed it on a stack of papers in front of Elrond before sitting with his own cup. 

Elrond looked up, nodded his thanks, and reached for the cup. “So what do you think of him?”

Lindir took a sip of his tea before speaking, allowing him a moment to frame his comments. “He is very young. Much younger than I expected. I doubt he has even two hundred years. Speaks without affectation. A bit shy and uncomfortable as yet, but appears to be well-spoken and is not afraid to ask questions. He was not aware of all the tasks he was being sent here for. He says he can do the work and I believe him. Our king has not sent you someone already set in his ways. He has sent you someone with the potential to be the assistant you so dearly need, but we will need to guide him along the way and teach him how he can best serve you. I doubt he will make many decisions on his own until he gains both the confidence to do so and the experience you need him to have to make those decisions.”

Elrond sat back in his chair, thinking over Lindir’s words. “Gil-galad knows me well,” he finally said. “Although I could really use someone to help me attack this mess right now,” and here he stopped to motion to the mounds of paper heaped in stacks and confusion cascading over his desk. “I suspect I will be happier in the long run with training Erestor myself. Do you think he will fit in here well?”

Lindir nodded. “I was only with him for a few minutes, but I like him. You will see what I mean when you speak with him. He is unpresuming and does not expect any special treatment. He refused to let the servants help him unpack and he thought he would be sharing his quarters with others because they were so large. I expect he will endear himself with our people in time.” Lindir smiled. “And he’s a beauty.”

One of Elrond’s eyebrows rose. “A beauty?”

“About my height and nicely built. Slender. Hair so black it shone blue, even under the dust of the road. Sparkling, dark eyes.”

Elrond chuckled. “Careful, I will have to tell Galuvaeron he’ll need to keep an eye on you.” 

“I am quite happily wed, as you well know, Elrond,” Lindir jibed. “Just because I have eyes for no one but my husband does not mean that I can’t appreciate another one of Eru’s lovely creatures. But I suspect he will easily attract the attention of a few Elves I can think of. We will have to watch that no one takes advantage of his youth.”

“Watch out for whom?” Glorfindel asked, striding into Elrond’s office and dropping another pound of paper onto one of the teetering stacks on Elrond’s desk. “Weapons inventories. We could do with more arrows before too long. We need more fletchers.”

“My new assistant,” Elrond said, grabbing for the stack of paper and righting it before it collapsed onto the floor. “He is apparently young and quite lovely.”

“Really? When do I meet him?” Glorfindel asked. 

Lindir stood and picked up his now empty mug from the edge of the desk where it was precariously perched. “Tonight at dinner. Just remember, Glorfindel, you need to be his protector, not his predator.” 

The captain of Imladris’ forces bowed to his old friends, smiling, and retreated from the clutter that was Elrond’s office, heading back to the orderly sanctuary of his office.

&&&

Erestor walked a few steps behind Lindir, his eyes scanning the walls as they passed and his mind ticking off hallways, counting steps and reckoning the number of doorways. By the time they reached the dining hall, he was confident that he could find his way to his rooms. The hall was already full of Elves, and a regal looking Elf with a circlet of silver upon his head, whom Erestor presumed was Elrond, sat at the end of a long table on the dais. At Elrond’s left sat a tall, straight Elf with shining gold hair, and Erestor immediately recognized that this was the fabled Glorfindel, for his voice was like music and his face was young and fearless and full of joy. Lindir bowed and motioned for Erestor to come forward, introducing him to Elrond, Glorfindel, and other members of the household who sat at the table before taking his place at Elrond’s right. 

Erestor swallowed nervously, overwhelmed to be in the presence of two such powerful Elf-lords, bowed low, his hand over his heart, and rose to look straight into the starlight grey eyes of Elrond, who gazed upon him kindly. “I am honored, my lord,” he finally said, pleased he pulled it off without a stammer and spoke clearly, if quietly. “I had expected to be only a scribe in your household, but Lindir tells me I am to be your assistant. I will do my best to please you.”

Elrond smiled and said, “You are welcome in Imladris, Erestor, but come, sit beside Galuvaeron on my right and dine. There is time enough tomorrow to introduce you to your duties and speak of work.”

Erestor bowed again and took the empty chair to Elrond’s right, between Galuvaeron, Elrond’s chief healer, and a counselor by the name of Melpomaen. The food was passed and Erestor’s nerves calmed enough for him to enjoy the meal, no doubt aided by the genial company of both Galuvaeron and Melpomaen. After discovering that Galuvaeron was also Lindir’s bonded and answering the healer’s questions about his journey from Mithlond, Erestor turned politely to Melpomaen. 

“Have you been in Imladris long?” Erestor asked. The counselor had a gentle face framed by sable hair. 

“I was among the first refugees who came here,” Melpomaen answered, “when we lived in tents and made do with whatever we had or could scrape up. Imladris has come far.”

“Imladris is beautiful,” Erestor replied. “I had no idea it would be so built up by now and everything is just so – beautiful,” he finally added, unable to come up with another word as descriptive that didn’t sound pretentious. 

“There were many skilled builders and artists among the refugees, but there is still much to do. The spinners and weavers have only in the most recent years had the time to devote to making cloth that was not primarily functional, and our new library will need many scribes working on it. I have been asked to help you organize that.”

Erestor took a deep breath and then exhaled in a huff. “I confess I am finding it all a little overwhelming. How am I to learn to be Lord Elrond’s assistant and work with the scribes at the same time?”

Melpomaen smiled and then reached over to give Erestor’s hand a pat. “Concentrate on assisting Lord Elrond first, and I will get what scribes we have started on the copying. Lord Elrond needs the most help. I fear if even a slight breeze gets into his office. His desk is nothing but stacks of reports and letters and nothing is organized.”

Erestor’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Has no one helped him?”

“Lord Elrond is rather particular when it comes to his desk and paperwork. I don’t think he’s ever let anyone touch a thing on it.”

Erestor looked at Melpomaen thoughtfully. “Do you know where my workspace will be? Could you show me after dinner and maybe I could see Lord Elrond’s office as well?”

Melpomaen agreed.

&&&

Erestor’s workspace was a normal sized office with a connecting door to Elrond’s office. There was nothing in it but some wall shelves, a desk and a chair, although inside the desk he found a supply of quills and a corked bottle of ink, as well as blotters, a candle holder and several candles. Perhaps someone had used the desk before him? Atop the desk were stacks of paper that closely resembled Elrond’s desk. Erestor had taken one look at it all and knew he wouldn’t be getting much rest that night. There was no way he could rest with all this, even if Elrond didn’t like anyone in his office. Melpomaen had shown him where the kitchens, healing rooms, scriptorium and new library were before bringing him here, so after his new friend left him for the night, Erestor rolled up his sleeves. A quick trip to the kitchens a little while later and a polite request yielded him a few cleaning cloths and a paste wax to clean wood and he got to work. 

Just as the sun started peeking over the mountains, Erestor put the final touches on his work, bundled up his cleaning supplies, and went to his rooms to clean up and change. That done, he walked to the dining hall and took his place at the breakfast table beside is new friend. 

“Did you sleep well?” Melpomaen asked.

“I did not sleep,” Erestor murmured. “I spent the night cleaning up my office and organizing the papers in Elrond’s for him. How he could find anything is beyond me. Everything is all organized now.”

“You did what!?” Melpomaen almost shouted and then hastily lowered his voice to a whisper that only Erestor could hear. “You touched Lord Elrond’s desk? Valar, I don’t want to be anywhere close to his office when he goes there.”

Just at that moment, Elrond rose from the table, and accompanied by his captain and seneschal, left the dining hall. Several moments later, a loud shout was heard, followed by colorful cursing and a slamming door. 

Erestor gulped, his hunger and need for breakfast forgotten. “I think I had better go and face the music,” he whispered.

&&&

Erestor sat in a shadowed corner of the kitchen. He had discovered he’d made another friend when the cook who had given him cleaning supplies the night before had hauled him out of his rooms when he hadn’t appeared for either the midday meal or dinner. She’d sat him down with a plate of fresh warm buns, butter and cheese, along with a mug of ale and two plump apples. “The whole house knows Elrond is angry with me,” Erestor said miserably. “Everyone will hate me and I’ll probably be sent home with my tail between my legs.”

“Lord Elrond will get over it,” Galwen said. “I heard tell that Lindir told him to quit yelling and be grateful that you’d made sense out of the mess, and there’s more than a few who think you did a good deed.”

“Myself included,” a melodic voice said. 

Erestor quickly stood and bowed, albeit a bit clumsily since he was standing between chair and table, as he found himself in the presence of Glorfindel. 

“Sit, Erestor,” Glorfindel said, taking a seat across from the young Elf. He accepted a cup of tea from Galwen, who had hastily poured him one. “Eat,” he said, motioning to Erestor’s plate. “You worked all night and I doubt you ate anything at all today, did you? You missed far too many meals today over Elrond’s little tantrum. If you ask me, it was a long time in coming. I saw how you arranged everything. It is logical and neat. You did a fine job. For the first time in years he’ll actually be able to find my weapons inventory. Lindir sent me to check on you while he continues to talk some sense into Elrond’s thick head. For such a kind and gentle Elf, Elrond is also a forceful leader with rather proprietary tendencies. What sits on his desk he has always considered inviolable.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” Erestor said, his head meekly bowed. 

Glorfindel stood and reached his hand out to Erestor’s face, one elegant finger lifting the young Elf’s chin until Erestor’s eyes met his. “Do not apologize to me. In the morning, come to breakfast, and then you can apologize to Lord Elrond. Lindir and I, and even Galuvaeron and Melpomaen, will be your champions should the need arise, but I doubt it will. Elrond never lets a night fall on his anger. It will be blown out by morning.” He let his hand fall to his side. “Eat your meal and do not let it trouble you, Erestor. All will be well. You will see.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord,” Erestor said.

“And for Valar sake, do call me Glorfindel. I never could abide fawning.” Glorfindel’s smile removed some of the bite from his words, and he turned and left the room after nodding to Galwen.

“There, see now, Master Erestor?” Galwen said, taking the chair that Glorfindel had vacated. “Everything will be right as rain tomorrow, you just wait and see. Now eat your supper.”

Erestor looked at Galwen hopefully. If even Glorfindel was on his side, perhaps he wouldn’t be sent home in shame. He broke a piece off one of the buttered buns and ate it. 

In the morning, Elrond did not appear at breakfast, and after the meal, Lindir and Glorfindel escorted Erestor to the Elf-lord’s office.

“I owe you an apology,” Elrond said, after Erestor was seated in one of the visitor chairs across from Elrond. “You did a fine job in sorting through all the paper in my office and yours, and have arranged everything very efficiently. I admit I was able to get a great deal accomplished yesterday because of it.”

“You will not send me back to Mithlond, my lord?” Erestor asked, his voice still holding a note of fear.

“No, I will not send you back to Mithlond. I think you will be good for me, although I would appreciate it if next time you asked before changing things. Agreed?”

“Agreed, my lord,” Erestor said, and for the first time since the morning before he allowed himself to relax.

“Shall we begin working?” Elrond asked. “I have some letters to be written that you can help me with.” 

And so they began.

&&&

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and Erestor settled into Imladris and into a routine. He and Melpomaen became great friends, and Erestor spent much of his free time with the counselor. There were those who thought that a romance was developing between the two, but both Erestor and Melpomaen would have laughed at the thought, had they known.

“Are you ever going to tell Doron how you feel about him?” Erestor asked as he and Melpomaen lounged near the banks of the Bruinen on the rare morning when they had both been excused from their duties and told to quit breathing dusty scrolls and get some fresh air. 

Melpomaen sighed, although it sounded more like a huff and probably was, as Erestor asked him this question regularly. “Are you ever going to tell Glorfindel?”

“Probably not,” Erestor finally replied. “There’s a bit of difference between Lord Glorfindel and a scribe – even if Doron is one of the head scribes. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you know. You really should take a chance and make your feelings known.”

“You’re quite good at changing the subject, aren’t you? But I won’t let you deflect me. You should see the way Lord Glorfindel looks at you sometimes when you don’t see. And I’ve heard him extol your praises to Lord Elrond!”

Erestor snorted inelegantly. “He extols my praises only because I make sure his reports are properly read and the needs of our patrols are seen to. He’s just happy I found him another fletcher among some new arrivals. Other than that, he ignores me. I don’t know how he looks at me, but I doubt it has anything to do with returning my feelings for him.”

Melpomaen lay on his back and watched the clouds. “When did you know you loved him?” he asked.

Erestor looked at his friend. What on earth was Melpomaen on about? He trusted Mel, so he answered, “I think it was the second day I was here. After I spent the night cleaning and organizing Elrond’s office. He came to the kitchen that night and told me he would be my champion if Elrond was still angry. I knew then what kind of Elf he is, how noble and valiant he is. I guess I was smitten.” He chuckled. “As if someone like that would ever look at me.”

“Why wouldn’t he? You are a very beautiful Elf, Erestor.”

Erestor felt himself color. “Nice of you to say so, but no, I couldn’t hold a candle to someone like that.”

“Well who says you have to hold a candle to him?” Melpomaen inquired.

&&&

“A few Orcs have been seen near our borders,” Glorfindel said as he entered Elrond’s office. “I have doubled the guards, but if their numbers grow, we will need to ride out and take care of them. They may be checking to see if there is a way they can enter our valley in force, but will be disappointed, as the last who tried it were.” He looked around the room. “Where is Erestor? Is he not working this morning? I wanted to thank him for finding us another fletcher. This last one does excellent work and is very fast. We will soon have our supply of arrows back to where it should be.”

“I told him to get some fresh air,” Elrond replied, dusting the letter he had just finished writing with sand. “He and Melpomaen have been working with the older scrolls to get them ready for the scribes to make copies.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at his old friend. He suspected Glorfindel had come for more than to thank Erestor. The captain seemed to stop by at least once a day on some pretense or another, and Elrond had seen the look on Glorfindel’s face when he thought no one was watching him watch Erestor. Elrond had noticed that if Erestor was missing from the table for any of their shared meals, Glorfindel would be abnormally quiet. He had also seen the quick glances that Erestor gave Glorfindel when he thought he could get away with it. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Erestor? Yes, of course. He’s very competent and…” 

Elrond cut him off. “But you don’t like him because he’s competent. Erestor is a very beautiful Elf, my friend, and I know personally that he is quite unattached.”

Glorfindel sat in one of the chairs in front of Elrond’s desk. “He’s far too young and innocent for someone as old and hardened as I, Elrond.”

“Why would you say that? There is nothing hardened about you except your courage and skill in battle. You are fair and young, Glorfindel, your former life aside, and you bring joy to all around you. If you are attracted to him, then you should act upon it.”

Glorfindel sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps, one day. Time will tell what is to come.”

Commotion from the courtyard reached their ears just as a guard broke into the room. “My lords,” he cried, “we are under attack!”

&&&

Erestor loved spending time at the banks of the Bruinen, and on his time off he could usually be found there, accompanied by whichever book or scroll he was currently reading. There was one particular spot he loved the most, where several waterfalls all cascaded over steep, towering rocks the size of houses before plummeting into the river below. The rushing of the river’s water, accompanied as it was by the sound of the crashing waterfalls, reminded him of Mithlond and the sea, and he could close his eyes and hear the rhythmic breaking of the waves upon the shore during a winter’s rainstorm. He had always found that sound comforting and relaxing.

His calm refuge was suddenly shattered by shouts, the pounding of heavily clad feet and guttural cries. The air was pierced with arrows, both Elven and those of a cruder, heavier make. Erestor looked around, his mind racing, hurriedly trying to take in what was happening. By the time he thought to move to the lee of a large tree, there was a searing pain through his left side, and a blinding pain behind his eyes, and he knew no more. 

&&&

 

“Will he survive?” Glorfindel asked, still wearing his bloody clothing as he hovered anxiously beside Erestor’s bed in the healing wing. His own injuries consisted only of a slash on his arm that had already been stitched up by one of the healers, and a variety of scrapes and bruises that he considered as nothing. 

Elrond took a roll of linen from a healer’s hand and carefully bandaged the wound on Erestor’s head. “I hope so, my friend,” he answered with a sigh. “I believe his chances are good. It’s a good thing you found him when you did. If you’d been any later or if the blade had penetrated another half an inch, we would have lost him. It was difficult to stitch, it’s so deep.” He carefully rechecked the bandages on Erestor’s side. 

Glorfindel remembered all too well the sickening feeling in his stomach as he’d raced toward Erestor, only to see an Orc’s blade slice through his side and his head split open when he collapsed and his head hit a sharp rock. He had made quick work of dispatching the Orc, and the Imladris guards that followed in his wake took care of the rest of the intruders, while Glorfindel sped to the healing rooms with Erestor in his arms. “Will he awaken soon?”

“I hope not,” Elrond replied. “If we are fortunate, anyway. The longer he is unconscious, the less pain he will be in when he wakes. I do not expect him to regain consciousness for several hours. Go and get cleaned up and have some food, then you can come back and stay with him.”

Glorfindel was momentarily taken aback. He was about to deny that he wanted to stay with Erestor, but realized how futile that effort would be. Elrond had already figured out that he was attracted to Erestor, so he simply nodded and reluctantly left the healing wing, heading back to his own rooms. 

While he was bathing, a servant brought a tray of food, and after donning fresh clothes, Glorfindel ate quickly, anxious to be back with Erestor. Fear that he would lose Erestor would not let him tarry, and then the thought occurred to him that he couldn’t lose someone who wasn’t his to lose. And that was when realization dawned. In his heart of hearts, he realized he was already more than halfway in love with the gentle, intelligent, younger Elf, and he would do anything and everything in his power to have that love returned. After throwing a cloak over his shoulders, he hurried back to the healing wing. He had no intention of leaving Erestor’s side until the Elf was out of danger.

Glorfindel sat in the darkened room, keeping watch, Elrond beside him, as day ebbed into night and finally flowed into dawn. One or the other of them rose every so often to check the temperature of Erestor’s skin, wipe his face with a dampened cloth, or tuck the blankets securely around the unconscious Elf, and Elrond did not comment when Glorfindel often stayed at Erestor’s side, holding one of his hands. They spoke quietly, their voices unknowingly providing a soft, comforting noise that kept Erestor from frightful dreams and deepened his sleep. 

Rose light filled the sky over the mountains when Erestor moved in pain, and a groan left his lips. Glorfindel moved, making room for Elrond to attend to his patient. 

“Erestor,” Elrond said softly, taking one of Erestor’s hands while laying one of his own on the stricken Elf’s forehead. “Don’t try to open your eyes yet, my friend. You’ve a bad head wound. Can you talk to me? Can you tell me my name?”

Erestor visibly swallowed and then croaked, “Elrond.”

“Good, good. How do you feel?”

“Hurt. Thirsty.”

Just then one of the healers brought a cup of tea that was cool enough for Erestor to drink, and Elrond spoke soothingly as he helped Erestor drink from the cup. When the cup was drained, Elrond laid him back against the pillows and Erestor quickly fell asleep again.

“How is he?” Glorfindel asked. “Will he heal? Did you give him something for his pain?” He’d had to fight himself not to take the cup from Elrond and give it to Erestor himself.

“It is a good sign that he knew who I was and could speak, even if only a little. And yes, the tea contained something for his pain and to help him sleep. I am still very concerned about the wound on his side.”

During the day, Elrond left to attend to the business of the Last Homely House, but Glorfindel stayed. Erestor slept much of the day, waking once or twice and being given more tea by one of the other healers to help with his pain and speed his healing. Elrond checked in frequently until Glorfindel told him that the other healers were also checking frequently and they would send for him if there was a change in Erestor’s condition. 

Glorfindel sat silently at Erestor’s side, most of the time with one of Erestor’s small hands in his own larger ones. “Such beautiful, delicate hands you have,” he whispered to the sleeping Elf. “As beautiful as you are. I think you must be as beautiful inside, too. Everyone I’ve talked to says what a kind and cheery nature you have. They all speak so well of you. I am sorry I did not let you know that I was attracted to you. It was foolish of me, and now I might lose you without your even knowing that I have fallen in love with you.”

Night fell again, and Elrond sent Glorfindel away to refresh himself and eat, and then he ordered that another bed be brought into the room and placed beside Erestor’s for Glorfindel. When Glorfindel returned, Elrond retired to his own rooms for some much needed rest, after telling the healers to keep watch over Erestor and send for him if he was needed.

Glorfindel stretched out on the narrow bed, easing his muscles that had grown stiff from sitting for too many hours. His eyes watched Erestor until he allowed himself to slip into reverie, confident that he would wake if Erestor made a sound. 

Erestor woke with a pained moan, and Glorfindel rose immediately and moved to the other side of Erestor’s bed, calling for one of the healers as he did so. “Erestor, you are awake. Do not try to move yet, but the room is darkened so you can try to open your eyes. How do you feel? A healer is on the way.”

Erestor’s eyes slowly opened and moved around the dim, candlelit room, stopping when they reached Glorfindel and widening in surprise. “Glorfindel?” The word was faint and raspy. “How is it you are here?”

“I have been with you since you were injured.” Glorfindel once again took one of Erestor’s hands into his own. “I have been very worried about you.” He saw the confusion in Erestor’s face, and added, “Do not worry about it now. All is well. All you need to concentrate on is getting better.” 

The healer came, followed by Elrond, and Glorfindel was forced to retreat from Erestor’s side. He was allowed to feed Erestor some broth after the healers had satisfied themselves that their patient was mending, after which Erestor almost immediately fell asleep again. And Glorfindel once more sat and watched over Erestor’s sleep.

“Once the injury to his head improves, he will be awake more. Perhaps tomorrow,” Elrond said, and Glorfindel simply nodded, deep in his own thoughts about Erestor and wondering if the Elf he loved could love him in return.

Erestor woke a few days later, feeling more clear headed than he had in a good while, to find that Glorfindel was not only still there, but was holding his hand, and his thumb was moving rhythmically over it. “Why are you still here, Glorfindel?” Erestor asked in a whisper. Talking too loudly still made his head hurt. “Every time I wake, you are here. I feel guilty that you are spending your time with me and not taking care of your duties. I don’t understand why you would spend your time with me.”

Glorfindel moved a little closer to Erestor’s bed and hunched down with his elbows on the side of the bed, Erestor’s hand still cradled in his own. “Something very odd happened when I found you during the Orc attack,” he finally said after a long moment. He had thought about what he would say to Erestor, but now that the moment was upon him he was unsure. The last thing he wanted was to say something wrong. “When I carried you here, so very injured and bleeding so much, I realized that if you died, a piece of me would go with you. You have become very much a part of Imladris, Erestor, and a part of my life too. I knew if you died, I would grieve your loss so very much and I promised myself that if you recovered I would tell you what you have come to mean to me.”

Erestor looked at Glorfindel, confusion written on his face. “I don’t understand.”

“You see,” Glorfindel began, his head dipping closer so that the soft whisper of his voice gently stirred Erestor’s raven-black locks, “I find that I have fallen in love with you, my dear Erestor, and it would give me the greatest happiness if perhaps you might be able to love me back.” The words once said could not be unsaid, so Glorfindel bravely moved his mouth to Erestor’s and stole one soft kiss from his perfect lips. 

 

~An Age and a half later…

Erestor stood beside Lindir at the top of the flight of stairs leading down to the courtyard, having chosen that point to watch as it afforded him a good view of the approaches without being far away in one of the towers. Elves at the Ford of Rivendell had sped the Hobbit Frodo into the healing rooms, and Elrond was attending to him, along with Gandalf. Now they awaited the return of Aragorn and Glorfindel with the remainder of the Hobbits. 

When the party finally came into sight crossing the bridge, Erestor heaved a sigh of relief and descended the stairs with Lindir. Glorfindel had been gone nearly two weeks, and Erestor had fought to remain calm. This wasn’t the first time Elrond had sent Glorfindel to go up against the Witch King; Erestor just wished that Elrond didn’t pick his husband so often. Well, maybe twice in one millennia wasn’t really that often, but it certainly felt like it.

Lindir gathered the weary Hobbits into his care, Aragorn ascended the stairs to make his way to his old rooms, and Glorfindel stood in front of Erestor, a smile gracing his ageless face. “I am home.”

Erestor reached out a hand and with his thumb brushed at a smudge on Glorfindel’s face. “It had to be you to find the Nine, I suppose? What took you so long?”

“Seems so, yes. It was Aragorn’s fault. He took the Hobbits into the wild.” The smile remained firmly affixed on Glorfindel’s face. “You weren’t worried about me, were you?”

“No more than usual.”

“Is Elrond with Frodo?”

“Yes, and Gandalf. Whatever needs to be done, they will do it, have no worry. Time for you to get cleaned up. Have you eaten in the last few days? Knowing you, you haven’t. It’s a good thing Asfaloth can graze or you would both go hungry on these little trips of yours. He’s in the stables being cared for, by the way. You only had food for a week with you.” All the while he was talking Erestor led Glorfindel up the stairs toward their quarters. 

When they were finally in the closed quiet of their rooms and Glorfindel had shed his cloak and thick leather vest, he pulled Erestor to him, encircling his husband with his strong arms. “I am all right, Erestor. I did not die again. I came back to you.”

Erestor was finally quiet as he let Glorfindel’s presence and love surround him, and for long minutes, they simply stood and held each other. “I can’t help worrying, you know.”

“I would be heartbroken if you didn’t.” 

“It’s just that I love you so much that I can no longer imagine living without you.”

Glorfindel removed his arms from around Erestor to cup Erestor’s face between his hands. “I love you, Erestor, as I have ever done. You are my greatest happiness. I will always come home to you. Always.” He moved his mouth to Erestor’s and clasped him in a passionate embrace that molded their bodies together. When they finally broke apart, he said, “Will you come and bathe with me or shall I take you to bed as I am?”

Erestor smiled. “A bath with you would be my greatest pleasure. I put clean linens on the bed for later.” 

Glorfindel chuckled as Erestor took his hand and led him to the bath. They managed to make it there before their clothing was hastily disposed of, complete with a few torn seams that would require mending. 

Erestor opened the tap and allowed the bath to fill a bit before adding a generous amount of fragrant lavender and myrrh oil before turning to meld himself to Glorfindel. When the bath was half filled, Glorfindel stepped into it, lifting Erestor in with him.

Erestor settled onto Glorfindel’s lap, his arms wrapped around Glorfindel’s shoulders, and he kissed his mate tenderly. “I want you,” he murmured. “I need to feel you inside of me, know you are truly home again, know you are mine.” 

Glorfindel made a noise that sounded much like a moan and his hands cupped Erestor’s buttocks, massaging them. “Then it shall be,” he whispered against Erestor’s lips, and proceeded to fulfill Erestor’s every desire.

Later, as they lay on the clean linens in their bed, wrapped so closely around each other that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began, a stray thought flickered through Erestor’s mind and he said, “I remember when you first told me I was your greatest happiness.”

“Do you?”

“Hmmm. It was the day you first told me you loved me.”

“Right after you nearly died and nearly sent me back to the Halls of Waiting.”

“That was so long ago.”

“And you are still my greatest happiness,” Glorfindel said, capturing Erestor’s mouth for one last kiss before he allowed himself to fall asleep in his lover’s arms.

~End


End file.
